Warehouse 13: (O3) Reprobate
by A Rhea King
Summary: Assuring the men this is a simple pick up, Artie sends Steve with Emory on the Advocate's first retrieval. But is there ever a simple artifact retrieval? Steve must deal with his unrequited feelings for Emory.
1. Chapter 1

**Warehouse 13**  
**"Reprobate"**  
By A. Rhea King

_Chapter 1_

**Warehouse 13**  
**South Dakota**

Steve walked into the office from the Warehouse, carrying a stack of boxes and papers.

"Where do you want these, Artie?" Steve asked. "And hurry, I'm starting to lose my grip."

The top three boxes were removed and when they turned away, he found Emory had taken them. He was wearing a muscle shirts and Steve couldn't stop watching his muscles ripple as he carried the boxes and sat them down. Emory turned back to him and Steve realized he'd just been caught staring at him. He smiled, trying to cover the moment.

"Thanks."

"That it?" Emory asked him.

"Yes." Steve nodded.

Emory walked back to the couch and sat down. He picked up a book he was reading and put on his reading glasses. Steve tried not to stare at Emory, but it was difficult since his glasses made him look even sexier.

The moment was shattered when Emory suddenly made a dash for the bathroom. Although the sound was faint, Steve could hear him retching. He felt sorry for Emory. He had gone to every doctor in Univille, twice to a few, and the reports were the same. He was a little anemic but otherwise in perfect health, X-rays or CAT scans found a few fatty growths around his liver but nothing to be concerned about. There was no explanation behind his abdomen cramps and fits of vomiting.

Steve started working on the paperwork in the boxes. Before long he was lost in his work and forgot that his crush was only a few feet from him. He didn't notice Emory come back into the office and return to his books, even tuning out the crunching of him eating ice.

Artie walked in, saying, "Oh good. You're both here. I have an assignment for you two."

Steve turned, expecting to see Claudia. It was still just him and Emory.

"Who two?" Steve asked.

"You and Emory."

Steve glanced at Emory, and then stared. Emory pulled his glasses off and crossed a leg, staring at Artie. He looked like he was about to launch into some very intellectual—

Steve focused on Artie already talking.

"...and so it's a good case for Emory to get some field time in."

"What?" Steve asked.

Artie scowled a little. "I said I know where the artifact is, I contacted the person who has it, they are willing to hand it over, and so it's a good case for Emory to get some field time in."

"Well Claudia—"

"Is where?"

Steve hesitated. "Sweden visiting her... Okay."

Artie produced tickets and a Farnsworth, and held them out. Neither man moved.

"Your flight leaves in two hours and traffic in Rapid Falls will be a nightmare when you get there. Do you two maybe want to move?"

Each man grabbed a ticket and Steve pocketed the Farnsworth. Outside the Warehouse the dry summer heat hit them. Steve suddenly realized his and Artie's car were the only ones in front of the Warehouse. He turned to Emory, to offer him a ride, and found he wasn't behind him anymore. He turned a full circle and found he was alone. Had he gone back inside? Steve shook his head. Maybe he had changed his mind about going. Steve got in his car and headed back to the bed and breakfast to grab his overnight bag and tablet.

To his surprise, Emory was sitting on the bench outside the door with a small leather bag at his feet. He was doing something on his smartphone. Steve slowly got out.

"How... Did you get back before me?" Steve asked.

Emory looked up at him. "Teleportation."

"An artifact called you."

Emory looked back at his phone. "I taught myself to do it on my own."

Steve felt like he needed to say something, that he should be warning Emory not to teleport anywhere, but then he realized he didn't know if that was true. Maybe the reason he felt like this was because he was crushing on Emory as much as he was jealous of his ability to move through time and space.

Steve went inside to pack.

**Flight to Reno, NV**

Emory hadn't argued about riding with Steve to the airport. In fact, he hadn't said much of anything since they left. Steve was a little uncomfortable with the silence. Claudia and Pete had been non-stop talkers the first time he worked with both of them. Artie never was like that, but at least there was some conversation. Myka always focused on the case but he could sidetrack her into other topics. So this silence was really strange to him. They got to an airport parking lot and took a shuttle to the terminal. Still no words. They checked in and Steve saw Emory say something to the woman behind the counter, but she only nodded and that was the last of it. They went through security, to their gate, and boarded without as much as one word. They stowed their carryon bags overhead, holding out their devices.

"Window or aisle?" Steve asked Emory.

Emory slid into the row, sitting by the window. Steve sat down in the seat next to him. He pulled up a game on his tablet and focused on it until he had to put it away for takeoff. He stashed it in the seat pouch in front of him, and then gripped both arm rests. Flying he didn't mind - so long as there wasn't a takeoff, landing, or turbulence. As long as it was smooth and uneventful, Steve had no problems flying.

"Are you okay?" Emory asked.

Surprised to hear anything out of the man next to him Steve jerked his head and immediately regretted it when he pulled a muscle. He grimaced, turning his head back.

"I'm fine."

Emory didn't comment. The plane's engines wound up and they headed out to the runway. Steve closed his eyes tight and swallowed. He hated takes offs. He hated landings. He hated turbulence. He... Was surprised to feel Emory's hand on his. Before he could look down the plane was rushing down the runway, headed for the sky.

"Just breathe," Emory quietly told him. "It is easy. One breath in. One breath out. Repeat it in your head. The rest is just rhythm."

The plane leveled out before Steve even realized it. He had been listening to Emory. He had been counting one breath in, one breath out, and forgot where he was until it was announced they could move about the plane. He felt Emory's hand leave and secretly wished it wouldn't leave, so he kept his eyes closed to let his fantasy play on.

The last thing he heard was Emory quietly asking, "Miss, can I get just a cup of ice please?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

**La Quinta**  
**Reno, Nevada**

They had gotten in late to Reno, Nevada and Artie called them. They had to wait a day, something had changed. So they found a hotel and booked two beds. Steve went out to find some supper, leaving Emory. He was mildly surprised to come back and find Emory eating a small pizza, and still messing with his smartphone. He sat down on the other bed and turned on the TV, but kept glancing at Emory.

"What is on that phone that's so interesting?" Steve asked.

"Work," Emory told him.

"Work? What work?"

"Cross word puzzles."

"Oh. I forgot..." Steve looked down at the remote, turning it in his hand.

"I am sorry you could not do this with Claudia," Emory told him.

Steve looked up at Emory. He was still staring at his phone.

"I didn't say that."

"You did. At the Warehouse. Not in so many words."

Steve felt a little shamed by that. "No. That wasn't it. I mean... I'm used to working with Claudia and you know how it is working with someone new."

Emory didn't respond so Steve turned his attention to finding something to watch.

"This is the first time I have worked with people at all," Emory quietly admitted.

Steve smiled. "I can't imagine that. My first job I was fifteen."

Emory didn't say anything. Steve looked at him. "What was your first job?"

"Cross words."

"Oh. Right out of college?"

Emory nodded.

"Do you like it?"

Emory nodded again.

"That's good. What about this job, you know, being an Advocate?"

Emory looked at the ceiling and Steve waited, letting him think. He nodded a couple times.

"I like it. I like the people I work with."

Steve smiled.

He almost didn't hear Emory add, "Some more than others."

His heart skipped a beat but he acted like he hadn't heard it. He just smiled a little.

**House of Hell**  
**Reno, Nevada**

Steve looked over at Emory. He was half turned toward the door and almost curled up in the fetal position in the seat. He woke Steve up at 5 A.M. with vomiting. Steve finally convinced him to try sleeping until Artie called and he was out for hours, waking up to vomit a few minutes before the call came. They left but stopped every mile so he could vomit. Having had it Emory trying to be tough, Steve wouldn't leave him alone until he ate some soda crackers and drank some Sprite. Finally they were able to make it out of Reno and head to the address to pick up the artifact.

"Feeling any better?" Steve asked.

"Yes."

"Sometimes when you've been sick like this it helps to give your stomach something simple to work on."

"I do not like Sprite, Steve. Why does it taste so good?"

"You are probably just dehydrated. Anything tastes good when I get dehydrated."

"Perhaps." Emory closed his eyes, leaving Steve to follow the GPS directions.

They turned off the main road onto a dirt road. It was lined with thick forest on either side, and the road was almost hidden by grass as tall as the car. Emory sat up, watching the woods.

Steve stopped the Camry in front of the house and stared at it. He checked his GPS, then he looked at it again. The house was a two story Victorian and when it was built, it had probably been a beautiful home. But those days were long gone. Now the roof sagged. Vines wrapped around the columns on the porch as nature tried to reclaim what was once its own. The stairs leading to the front door were broken. The screen door hung at an angle and half the windows were boarded up.

Had he been looking at Emory, he would have seen something stranger than the house. Sitting in front of the house, Emory's head drifted to the side as he listened.

"This can't be right," Steve muttered to himself. He opened the Farnsworth to call Artie. "No one even lives here!"

"It is right," Emory quietly told him, "and something lives here, just not human."

Steve looked up. Now he noticed the change that had come over Emory.

"What does that mean?"

"I have never heard an artifact in pain, but this one is. Whatever has it is keeping it from speaking. I can hardly hear it."

"_Whatever_ has it? What-What does that mean?"

"I do not know. It is confused too."

Steve was at a loss of words and action. He realized at that moment he didn't know what Emory was capable of doing or hearing or seeing, and this was the worst possible time to find out.

"What should we do?" Steve asked him.

"Not be here when night falls." Emory got out of the car.

That made Steve jump out of the car. "What does _that_ mean?"

"We do not want to be here when night falls. Come on. We have to find this thing."

"Artie talked to someone, Emory. Someone in this house. That person told him we could come pick up the amulet today. He told me—"

Emory turned to him and his silent, stern expression stopped the words. Steve closed his mouth.

"That is better." Emory headed up the steps.

Steve followed him. "Who did Artie talk to?"

"Something that has been dead for a very long time and is very angry."

"Can you talk to them?"

"No."

"But you can talk to—"

Another stern look stole Steve's words.

The two entered the house. The inside looked as bad as outside. What furniture was left was covered in layers of dust. Some of the dust had created strings that resembled cobwebs and hung in the atmosphere. The second Steve crossed the threshold of the door he felt a change in the air. It was cold and dark in here. The air smelled stale and used. The shadows looked deeper, and what little sunlight came through the dirty windows wasn't strong enough to chase away the creepy feeling that was crawling into his gut. His hand slid up to his gun.

Emory noticed, and commented, "What lives here you cannot shoot, Steve. Leave it alone."

Steve glanced at him, but didn't move his hand off his sidearm. It made him feel safer, even if he believed Emory.

"We should split up," Steve suggested.

"We should not."

"We can find it faster if we do."

"I can feel that is what it wants us to do because separate we cannot protect one another, therefore, we will do no such thing."

"What is this place, Emory?" Steve hissed. "It feels like we just walked into, I don't know..."

"A tomb?"

Steve shuddered. "Yes."

"I think we have."

"Emory… I don't want to stay in here. Let's just split up and—"

"What does this amulet look like?" Emory asked.

Steve paused. Emory didn't know that answer? This was going to take forever! "It's a bronze and pearl chain. The amulet has a blue diamond. Supposedly it belonged to Geoffrey of Monmouth."

"Who wrote the tales of King Arthur. It is a long way from home, is it not?"

"I guess. Where would that be?"

"Great Britain."

"Then, yeah, it's far from home. I thought you looked at the photos too."

"I did."

"But you cannot remember what it looks like?"

"I did not say that."

Steve audibly sighed, realizing what Emory just did. He changed the subject so Steve would get off the idea of them separating. He wasn't sure if he wanted to congratulate him for a genius move, or be furious that he had just been duped.

The two walked quietly through the house, checking every place an amulet could be hidden. They headed to the second floor.

Again Steve suggested, "We should split up. The sun is going down."

"We will not split up and we will not be in here when it does."

"I don't want to come back."

"If we have to come back, then we have to."

"Emory, this is not—"

Something threw Steve against the wall and then body slammed him to the floor. He tried to get up but was pinned by something he couldn't see. Emory grabbed his arm and the force holding him tore away, leaving claw marks on his arms as it fought to hold onto him. Emory pulled him away and into a room. He slammed the door shut and jammed a chair under the handle.

The men both jumped back when something very solid and heavy slammed against the door. The door handle rattled as something tried to open it. In succession the slamming and door handle rattling continued.

"The amulet is in here," Emory told Steve. "That door isn't going to keep it out for long. Hurry."

They tore the room apart. Steve reached in a drawer and almost closed his hand on the amulet.

"Got it," Steve told him.

He pulled on a glove and reached for it. Emory suddenly tackled him to the floor, landing on top of him. The door shattered and something hot blew across Steve, but still he saw nothing. Emory got up and grabbed the amulet. He grabbed Steve's arm and half pulled him up.

"I do not know how this is going to work," Emory told Steve.

Before Steve even considered a response, the two were one floor above the ground between the car and the house.

"Shit," Emory muttered, and they fell to the ground.

This time Steve was on top and for a moment the two froze, staring at each other. Emory suddenly grabbed him and rolled away as something hot passed over them.

"We have to get out of here," Emory ordered in Steve's ear.

The two scrambled to their feet and ran to the car. Steve shut the door before he realized the keys were not in the ignition. He patted his pockets. They weren't in his pockets.

"Steve, we have to go."

"I don't have the keys."

"What?"

"The keys are missing. They were in my pants pocket when..." Steve looked up at him. "When I was first attacked."

Emory's shoulder sank. "Wait here." He tossed the amulet on the dash and vanished.

Steve stared at the empty passenger seat, then he looked at the house. Daylight was almost gone and something about the house looked off. It was almost as if it had a face that was screaming. Emory appeared in front of the car and sank to his knees. Steve jumped out and ran around. He had a deep claw mark across his chest and back, his lip was split, and one eye was bruising. But he held the car keys in his hand. Steve pulled them away and helped him back in the passenger seat. He ran around and jumped in, starting the car. He slammed the car into drive and hit the gas as he grabbed the emergency break, spinning the car around. He dropped the emergency break and slammed the gas again, speeding off down the road.

Steve looked in the side mirror and he could swear that the house looked like it was on fire. He looked away, ordering himself not to look back again. Instead, he looked over at Emory. He held his chest and leaned forward.

"Do you want me to go to the emergency room?"

"No. They will ask questions. Just stop for some first aid stuff. It looks much worse than it is, Steve."

Now Steve was able to go back over what just happened and let it sink in.

"What was in that house, Emory?"

"It wasn't human."

"I gathered that. Is it because of the amulet?"

"No. The amulet was just a prisoner. They all were."

"All? They all were?"

"There were other artifacts in that house. They were scared. They wanted me to take them too."

"We could have."

"We do not have time. We have to come just after dawn to get them all out and away before that thing wakes up again."

"We can do that."

"Me? No. I want to go home."

"I can stay and do it."

Emory looked at him.

"What?" Steve asked.

Emory looked away without a word.

"I could."

"We should come back with everyone else. Then you will not die."

Steve hit the brakes, skidding to a stop on the deserted road. He stared down the road, trying to find a way to ask what he wanted to know.

Emory answered him before he could. "I could see what it wanted to do. You were the first thing it saw tonight. If you go back in that house, it will wake up and it will kill you, and then anyone else in the house. It is nothing you have done or said, it is just that thing's nature. It likes to kill."

"But this isn't some crazy future seeing thing, right?"

"No. I cannot see the future."

"Are you lying to me?"

"I thought you could tell if I were."

Steve and Emory stared at each other. A realization just hit Steve but now was not the time to bring it up.

"If that changes, and you do see my future, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"Agreed."

Steve looked at him. "Agreed?"

"I would not have told you if I had seen something like that. No one should know their future."

Steve nodded. "Agreed."

He put his foot back on the gas and they drove back to the hotel in silence.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

**Bed and Breakfast**  
**South Dakota**

Artie shook his head, repeating, "I swear I spoke to someone."

Emory repeated, "You did. He was dead."

"On the phone. There was a voice on the phone. He agreed to give us the amulet."

"There was no one there but whatever that thing was."

That made Artie shake his head again. The team was sitting at the table with three pizzas between them.

"And you don't know what it was?" Abigail asked.

Emory shook his head.

"Could it be a demon, maybe?" Claudia asked.

He shrugged.

"So what about the other artifacts?" Steve asked.

"Well, if there are more, we have to get them out of there," Artie told him. "I'll have to make arrangements. How many are there, Emory?"

"I heard twenty-one distinct voices, but I think there may be more. The house was a collection of them."

"Do you think this thing gathered them there?" Myka asked.

"It cannot leave the house. I do not know how."

"Maybe it lured people with the artifacts there somehow," Pete offered. "I mean, it did have a conversation on the phone with Artie."

"That's possible," Steve said.

"Strange, strange," Artie said. "A haunted house that collects artifacts. How was your brother, Claudia?"

The subject changed and while they noticed Emory leave, no one said anything. Steve anxiously bided his time, waiting for a good moment to leave that wouldn't look suspicious.

#

Steve climbed the steps into Emory's trailer. He was sitting at the table, constructing a crossword puzzle. He didn't look up at Steve.

"Hey," Steve said.

"Hello," Emory answered.

Steve leaned against a cabinet, staring out the screen door. It faced the woods behind the bed and breakfast and in the fading light, the trees were alive with singing birds. He was peaceful, yet it sharply reminded him of the house in Nevada. It too had been peaceful when they first pulled up – although Steve didn't remember any birds.

"I never said thank you," Steve told him.

"For?"

Steve looked down at him, watching him work. He had a piece of notebook paper. On one side of the page was a word, and on the other a one sentence description of the word.

"You saved my life in that house, and you went back for the keys."

Emory didn't respond.

"Thank you."

Emory nodded once.

"You are a hard man to read, Emory. I never know what you're thinking."

Emory slowly looked up at him.

"You have the same expression, all the time."

Emory stared at him.

"And you know, everyone lies. Some tell just little lies, other people tell big ones, but everyone lies and I feel every single lie. Except from you. Ever since you've come here, I haven't felt you lie once."

The two stared at each other for a moment.

"Do you lie?"

"Not often."

"Have you lied since you've been here?"

"Twice."

"You know how many times you've lied since you've been here?"

He nodded

"About what?"

"Your lasagna needs more garlic and the noodles are not cooked long enough, but I said I liked it. You came down in that brown jacket you had and asked Claudia and me if it looked good. We both said yes. You called her on it."

"You haven't lied to the others?"

"No."

"Just me?"

"Yes."

"Do you like me?" Steve turned to face him.

There was the slightest change in his face. Emory looked at the paper before him. He sat his pend down, arranging it neatly with the line already on the table. Then he stood up to face Steve.

"I thought I was doing better at hiding this and I am sorry I could not." Emory began. "I do not want this to make things uncomfortable for you so I assure you that despite how I feel, I will not make any advance on you. I assure you that—"

"I'm gay," Steve bluntly told him.

Emory's mouth froze on a syllable, and then closed. The two stared at each other for a long moment.

"And I like you," Steve told him.

"I like you as well," Emory quietly admitted.

Steve smiled. "At least we have that out of the way." He stepped close to Emory, laying his fingers on the man's cheek. "You intrigue me and you are gorgeous. It's been a long time since I've found someone I was so attracted to on so many levels."

"I have never had that luxury, but I must admit, I do feel the same about you."

Steve moved closer and it made him tingle when Emory put his arms around him. Their lips were a feather apart, close enough to almost touch.

Steve softly told him, "I'd like to kiss you."

With the slightest smile, Emory replied, "Now would be good."

Steve kissed him.

* * *

_The End_


End file.
